


Cas Comes Back

by hypercuboid



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, First Kiss, M/M, The Empty (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27700733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypercuboid/pseuds/hypercuboid
Summary: After watching the Supernatural finale at 2am UK time, I stayed up until 5am writing this in a sleep-deprived frenzy. Sam and Dean investigate a ghost sighting in a familiar house. Dean deals with grief. Not to spoil anything, but they run into a familiar face.
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	Cas Comes Back

And it’s over. God is dead, the Earth is safe. And yet every morning, Sam and Dean wake up. They check the news. They check the blogs. They call their contacts. Nothing. A few cases pop up here and there, but they’re always people. The monsters - they don’t make a peep.

Miracle keeps them company. With all the free time on their hands, there’s plenty of time to take her for walks. She gets more love and affection than a dog can ask for. Sam and Dean find time for recreation, time to breath. Sam takes up jogging, learns to paint- badly, but it’s something. Dean plays the guitar. They have movie nights, marathoning old westerns. Classic horror movies make their way into the pile too and, after all these years, they make Dean jump. Sam pokes fun of him, Dean showers him with popcorn. (They’ll have time to clean it off the floor). But underneath it all, Sam is worried, and Dean feels it too. Being idle - it’s wrong.

\---  
“Cas,” Dean grunts. It’s deep into the night, he’s sitting at the edge of his bed, and he’s surrounded by empty bottles. His hands are clasped in front of his bowed head - snug in their grasp is a jacket, a handprint seared on its shoulder.

“Cas, I need you to hear me. I don’t know if you can hear me I - I don’t know what to do. Since you left, since you sacrificed yourself, I can’t live like this. If I had known, I would have stopped you. I should have stopped you.” Dean is shaking. He grabs the beer bottle next to him, takes a final swig, and smashes it to the floor.

“Cas,” this time his voice is firm. “There has to be a way to get you out of there. I need you to come back to me. Whatever you thought I might say, or how I feel, I can’t have it end like that. It’s not fair to end it like that, Cas. I need - I deserve-” Dean winces. What does he deserve, anyway? Everyone he cares about dies. It’s not some coincidence. Life’s a bitch, but Dean’s a menace. This is his fault, and now Cas is rotting away in darkness. And there’s no hope.

\---

“Careful, it’s hot,” Dean says, carrying two mugs of sloshing coffee.

“I think I found something,” Sam says.

“Now, Sammy, you know we shouldn’t touch our private parts.”

“What? No, Dean it’s a case. I think - or something weird, anyway. I think we should check it out.”

“Really?” Dean takes a seat, and blows gingerly on his drink.

“Yeah, people have been seeing, well, what sounds like ghosts. People appearing out of thin air. Get this - down in Lawrence.”

“Kansas?”

“No, Fishburne. Yeah, Kansas.” Sam takes a sip of his coffee and coughs. The coffee dribbles out of his mouth.

“Told you it was hot,” Dean retorts with a smirk. “This, well this sounds like a real case.” He’s beginning to get excited.

“Yeah, finally.”

“Finally, a real case!” Dean exclaims, slamming his fist down on the table. He takes a victorious swig off coffee and spit-takes.

“Careful, it’s hot,” Sam says slyly. Dean crinkles his eyes in annoyance. He has a ringing in his ear.

\---

In Lawrence, they go to the police station. They acost an officer outside.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Dean says. “Agent Singer and Agent Kripke, FBI.” They flash their badges. The officer squints at the badges, then squints back at them.

“What can I do you for?”

“We’re investigating some strange occurrences in the area. People popping up where they’re not supposed to - that sort of thing,” Sam says. The officer scoffs.

“Sounds like you two have been buying into the ghost stories. Nothing like that has been going on, this is a quiet town.”

“Anything you can tell us would help,” Sam says. The woman looks sceptical.

“Well, there was a break-in in a house not too far from here, a few days ago. Poor woman must be spooked. Hannah Williams. Between you and me, she’s a little nuts. She’s the one who started all of this ghost business.”

“A break-in?” Dean prys.

“Weird thing is,” the officer leans closer. “The guy didn’t even take anything, and he didn’t leave a scratch on her or the baby. He was just there, in the nursery, and poof! Gone.”

“Can you tell us the address of this house? We’d like to do an interview. Cover our bases.”

“Y’know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you two were ghost hunters,” the officer jokes, but she seems a little giddy. “I’ll write down the address for you. Here.” She scribbles on a notepad, rips out the page, and hands it to Sam.

“Thank you,” Sam says.

“Good luck on your ghost hunt,” she chortles. “God, the things the government is willing to pay for, meanwhile I can’t get a good cup of coffee on company time.” The brothers nod, and thank her again, and leave. Sam glances at the paper. His jaw tenses. He huffs.

“It’s home,” Sam says.

“Home?”

“Home. Our old house. From when I was a baby. Where mom-”

“You don’t think it’s Azazel again, do you?”

“No way, man, he’s way dead.”

“Well maybe when Chuck opened the gates to hell, he got out. Maybe he manages to stay out, somehow.”

“I hope not.”

“Me neither,” Dean replies. He hides a smirk. They get into the car.

“Are you seriously hoping that that’s what we’re dealing with here? Azazel?”

“No, man, but look. I’m happy to be out here again. Saving things, hunting people, you know.”

“I think it’s the other way around.”

“I know, but look. It’s good to keep my mind off things, y’know?

“What things?”

“It’s good to be back.” Dean turns the key in the ignition, the engine revs.

\---

They arrive at the house. There’s a chill in the air - autumn leaves flutter through the wind. The impala parks, the doors open, and Sam and Dean stomp the leaves with a crunch into the concrete. They march towards the house.

“Wait,” Sam says, blocking Dean with his arm.

“What?” Sam huffs, and looks around.

“Nothing, I just thought - I thought maybe I would feel something here, but I don’t. It just feels like any old house.”

“Well Sammy, you were a baby back then. Don’t worry about it.”

“How do you feel?” Sam asks.

“Friggin awesome,” Dean replies. He straightens his blazer, sniffs, and makes his way towards the door.

Dean knocks firmly. A young woman opens the door, meekly. She’s blonde, with a slim face, and for a second, Dean’s heart lurches. But he composes himself.

“Excuse, Ms. Williams, is it?” Dean flashes the badge, Sam follows suit. “FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions about a break-in that happened last week.”

“Oh, police have already sweeped the house. They didn’t find anything,” she says.

“I know, but I’d like to talk.”

“You’d think I’m crazy,” she says. Dean represses a giggle.

“Crazy is good,” Sam says. “Believe me, whatever it is, we’ve seen crazier.” The woman looks at Sam, then back at Dean. She opens the door wider, and gestures with her head.

“Come in,” she says.

Sam and Dean walk into the house. Their house. It’s furnished differently, bits have been redone, but Dean can feel it. The last place where he felt safe, felt protected. It feels empty now.

Dean and Sam take a seat on the couch. Hannah comes out of the kitchen with a plate of cookies. A fat baby sits in a high chair in the corner. It looks at Dean in judgement. Dean is taken aback, offended. Hannah sets the plate down and takes a seat across from them.

“Tell us what happened,” Sam says. Hannah glances at the baby, takes a deep breath, and lets it out in a sigh.

“It was late, about 4am I think. I heard James crying in the other room so I went to check. And there was just, some guy there. Standing over the crib,” Hannah says. Sam and Dean exchange grim looks.

“I screamed, and he turned around. He looked scared,” she continues.

“Did you notice anything about his eyes?” Dean asks. Sam raises his eyebrows at him, impressed by the subtlety. 

“No, I couldn’t get a good look at his face. He just vanished as soon as he turned around.”

“What do you remember?” Sam asks, leaning in.

“He had brown hair,” she says. “And he wore a tie. And a long coat.”

If Dean’s heart dropped before, this time it plummets. The color drains from his face. Sam straightens his back.

“Uh, anything else?” Sam asks, already standing up.

“That’s all I remember. He didn’t touch anything.”

“Thank you,” Dean sputters. “If I could have a moment alone with my partner.”

“Of course,” Hannah says. She looks concerned, but she just picks up the baby and exits to the kitchen.

“Dean I think,” Sam mutters.

“Oh, oh I know,” Dean hisses. He glances towards the door where Hannah left. “It’s Cas. It’s gotta be. He heard my prayers and now he’s trying to get through. Why here, well, who knows.”

“You’ve been praying to Cas?” Sam asks. Dean flinches.

“Oh, shut up. Hannah?” Dean calls out. Hannah shuffles back in.

“Does anyone else live here,” Dean asks.

“Just me and my husband,” Hannah replies.

“Well you, your husband, the baby - you’ve gotta stay out of here. At least for a week. We think this guy is dangerous, and he might come back.” Hannah clutches the baby tight to her chest.

“Okay,” she says.

They do the pleasantries. She says the family can stay at her sister’s. They’re half out the door.

“Y’know,” Hannah says. “I thought for a second, that maybe I saw a ghost.” The brothers exchange glances.

“Well,” Dean says. “Not this time.”

“Take care,” Sam says.

\---

It’s dusk. Sam and Dean sit in the Impala, eating burgers wrapped in greasy paper, gazing out the window at the house. 

“Why here? Of all places,” Dean mutters.

“He must be trying to find us. And that took us here, somehow,” Sam says, leaning on the window ledge. “What went down before Cas went to the empty? Did he say anything?” Dean sighs.

“Sam, I fucked up,” Dean says. “He did it to save me. Billie was gonna get us and he - well he bit the bullet. I have to be honest with you, but I’ve felt like crap this whole time.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Y’know what, I like the quiet. I like hanging out with you, and not having to worry every second that some monsters gonna jump out and fuck everything up,” Dean says. “But I can’t take it. Every minute of quiet, I’m thinking of some poor son-of-a-bitch we didn’t save. It eats me. If not Cas, then the others. I just thought Cas was someone I didn’t have to worry about.”

“Dean…” Sam starts. Dean’s eyes water. He sniffles, clenches his jaw, and looks away.

“I guess I was wrong,” he says.

There’s commotion outside the house. The door opens. Hannah emerges with the baby in her arms, her husband behind her with suitcases in hand. Clambering, they pack everything into the car, shut the doors, and drive off.

“Show time,” Dean says, opening the car door.

\---

With a click, the lock is picked. The brothers sneak into the house, and close the door gently behind them. Dean saunters through and flicks on the light.

“Dude,” Sam says.

“What? It’s just Cas. I’m gonna see if they have food.”

“Dean you just ate,” Sam calls after him. It’s too late. Dean comes back with the plate of cookies Hannah had set out earlier.

“She wanted us to have them, so,” Dean shrugs.

“Come on,” Sam says.

They make their way up the stairs.

“Sammy, check it out - They turned your old room into a gym,” Dean calls out. Sam looks around.

“So that means the nursery should be…”

“In my room,” Dean says, pointing. “Right there.” The door is closed. The two stand before it, and hesitate.

“You ready?” Sam asks.

“Sure,” Dean says. “Open it.” Sam gulps, grips the handle, and opens the door.

Nothing. The room is empty.

“Great,” Dean says, sauntering into the room. He sets down his duffle bag on the floor.

“If it’s Cas, he probably needs help getting through,” Sam says. He takes out a pad of paper and a pen and starts drawing symbols. “These sigils are supposed to lure angels. Don’t know if it’ll help, but it’s worth a try.”

“Woah woah woah, paper? What are we?” Dean says.

“Wow dean, I didn’t know you were so environmentally conscious.”

“No, I mean, we paint on walls! Paper?” Dean scoffs.

“Dean this isn’t our house, I don’t want to damage the walls.” Sam rips a piece of paper from the pad and hands it to Dean. “Here, put this up.” Sam throws him a roll of tape. Dean sulks and rolls his eyes.

After some work, the room is covered in sigils.

“Anything to recite?” Dean asks. “It’s been a while since I’ve flexed my latin.”

“Well, I actually thought you could, y’know,” Sam starts.

“Pray,” Dean finished.

“Well, yeah. Seemed like that was working.” Dean sighs and looks around self consciously. 

“Okay well,” Dean stutters. “Just - don’t look at me. Your googly eyes give me the heebie jeebies.” Sam raises his hands in surrender and turns around.

“Fine by me.”

Dean kneels to the floor, slowly. He glances at Sam, who has the demeanor of a man minding his business at a public urinal. He clasps his hands together.

“Cas,” he says. “Where the hell are you. Get your ass over here.” He looks up. Nothing. Sam looks at him incredulously. Dean huffs in annoyance.

“Cas,” he continues. “Whatever’s going on, we can help. We’re here now, and we miss you. Just, ghost-appear like you did in front of that lady, and maybe we could talk. Please.” Silence. Dean buries his face in his hands.

“Dean, watch out.” says a gravelly voice above him. Dean looks up to see Cas swinging his angel knife at something behind Dean. Dean ducks and rolls out of the way, but not before he’s showered with - blood? Something black.

Dean grabs a knife and starts fighting, Sam alongside him. The monsters are undulus black goo, writhing and weaving.

“What the hell are these things?” Dean shouts.

“Nothing,” Cas replies.

“No need to undersell it”

“No - I mean the nothing. They guard the empty. When they found out I was trying to escape, they followed me here.” Cas ducks and slices the nothing through the middle. Dean dodges a blow but gets smacked in the face with something wet, like a belly flop. He gets knocked back, but lunges forward and slices off an extremity. 

“Why here?” Sam asks. He’s frantically waving his knife.

“I was trying to find Dean. It was here that I felt him the strongest,” Cas says. At that, Dean looks up, and sees Sam, flailing. His leg is trapped by one of the nothing.

“Dean help,” he cries out. The nothing aren’t letting up.

“Cas, what do we do?” Dean calls out in distress.

“We need something earthly, something to repel them,” Cas says, gashing through the empty that’s trapped Sam. “Blood, Dean. Human blood. Do it.”

Dean grips his knife and slices through his palm. Blood drips.

“Okay, now what?” Dean shouts. He slaps an empty with his bleeding hand, and it recoils. “Oh, sweet.” With the knife, Dean makes a gash through his knuckles and punches through the nothings. Each one falls back sloshes into a puddle before disintegrating.

Cas is hovering over sam. The nothing has encased him, up to his face. It’s beginning to cover his mouth, and he’s struggling to breath.

“Dean, I can’t cut through,” Cas says. Dean grabs the empty in his bloody fists, tearing it away. 

“Sorry Sammy,” Dean says, and punches the black mass. It shudders, and melts away. Sam gasps for breath. 

“Cas,” Sam heaves. “Are you really here?”

“It seems that way,” Cas says flatly. The brothers’ faces light up, and together they tackle Cas in a bear-hug. The three of them fall to the floor.

“I’m happy to see you too,” Cas says.

\---

They tie up the loose ends. They get in contact with Hannah and tell her her house is safe. They tell the local authorities that they arrested the man who broke in. All is well.

The car ride back to the bunker is quiet. Sam tries to make small talk, ask Cas about his experience, but it falls flat. Sam sits shot-gun, Cas in the back seat. Dean doesn’t look at Cas. He can’t. He keeps trying to - glancing back - but each time his stomach lurches. At one point, he takes a peak in the rearview mirror, and he meets Cas’ gaze. It’s somber, almost pleading. Cas breaks eye contact first. Time passes, open road. No music.

“Who ya texting Sammy?” Dean breaks the silence.

“Eileen. She’s free tonight. It’s a little late but she wants to hang out at hers. Watch a movie.”

“Ah, the old Cable and Chill. Classy,” Dean remarks. “Things are getting pretty serious between you too, huh?” Sam suppresses a grin.

“Yeah, I guess they are.”

Cas darts his eyes between the two of them. Dean’s smile fades. They spend the rest of the car ride in silence.

\---

And then they arrive at the bunker. Dean stands firmly near the stairs. Cas leans against the table. He looks like a lost puppy. The energy from that first hug, it’s gone now - drained. Dean looks serious, determined. Angry. Cas cowers.

“Alright, guys, I’m off,” Sam says cheerfully. Cas and Dean stare each other down. Now, Dean can’t look away, and Cas is scared to. Sam glances between them awkwardly.

“I’ll see you later, then,” Sam says.

“Bye Sam,” Dean says sternly.

“Goodbye, Sam,” Cas says with less certainty. Sam nods, and makes a thin-lipped half-smile.

“Okay,” Sam sighs. He slaps his thighs, turns on his heels, and jogs up the stairs, clanging on the way. The door opens. The door shuts. 

Cas and Dean are alone.

“Look, Dean, I’m sorry. Whatever it is,” Cas stammers. Dean takes a step forward.

“I heard your prayers but I couldn’t come right away. It was too dangerous. Believe me, every second in there, every second away from you, it was agony.” Dean takes another step.

“Everything I said, I meant. But that wasn’t fair to put on you. Not like that. I know that. I’m sorry. And everything before,” Cas continues. Another step. “I don’t want-”

“Cas, shut up,” Dean growls. Cas holds his breath. Dean takes a final step, just before him. Dean furrows his brow, and grabs Cas by the collar. Cas’ breath shudders.

“Dean.”

Dean pulls Cas forward and smashes his lips against his. Cas’ body goes limp in relief. He grasps Dean by his shirt, by his neck, and pulls him closer, deeper into the kiss. It’s messy and it’s desperate and it feels like a million years in one instance. It doesn’t feel real. It feels safe. It feels like home, and it feels like they never left. After an eternity, Dean pulls away.

“This whole time,” Dean mutters. He paws at Cas’ coat, at his hair, as if feeling to make sure he’s really there.

“You felt...”

“I didn’t know how I felt. I didn’t know I was allowed to feel this way, until you said it.”

“I know what that’s like.”

“I didn’t want to say. I was scared.”

“I know, Dean.”

“Did you-?”

“Yes. God, yes. Ever since I gripped you tight that first time, yes,” Cas whispers. He rests his head on Dean’s chest.

“I thought you were gone, man, for real,” Dean says, cupping the back of Cas’ head with his hands. “I thought I wouldn’t ever get the chance-”

“I know, Dean.”

“No, listen. You have to hear it,” Dean grunts. He grabs Cas’ face in his hands, looks him in the eyes. “I love you, Cas.” The corner of Cas’ mouth quivers. He cups Dean’s cheek in his palm.

“I know, Dean. I know.” Dean has tears streaming down his face. Cas pulls him closer.

They settle back into the embrace, fitting their faces into the crooks of each others’ necks. It doesn’t feel like there was anything before this, and it doesn’t feel like there will be anything after. They just breathe, and hold each other close.

Time passes. Hours, days. Sam comes back. They don’t tell him, but he catches on. Cas sleeps in Dean’s room, but Cas can’t sleep. They sit together in the mornings, the three of them, and cases are slow, screeching to a halt. But it’s okay this time. Dean can take the silence, the empty moments. Because Cas is there. He shows him how to play guitar, and he’s bad at it, but he can sing. He takes a liking to Miracle, and the feeling is mutual. The movie nights, the jogs, the joyrides in the impala, the groggy mornings with nothing to do. Dean relishes it.

And eventually Sam leaves. He moves in with Eileen. They start a life. Cas and Dean man the bunker. It turns out, however long he’s lived, Cas still has a lot he hasn’t experienced. So they start there. They eat new food. Try, and fail, to cook new food, together. They go for walks. They go on vacation. They visit Sam and Eileen. Sam and Eileen have a son. Cas and Dean have each other. Time passes.

And eventually, Dean dies. Not too young, but the cheeseburgers were to blame. He still got further than he ever thought he would. Sam is there, and it’s agony. Cas wants to heal Dean, but it’s okay. Dean stops him. He’ll just get older anyway, and he’ll never look this pretty again. It hurts. Cas knows Dean will be okay, but it still hurts. He grips him tight. And Dean fades.

Dean goes to heaven, and Cas meets him there.


End file.
